that, as in the heavens above there is but one God, so upon the earth below there is but one common humanity, bound to him by one—the only perfected—prayer; to be made by all in one, or by one for all: "Our Father, give us this day our daily bread."
That prayer may be made by acts as well as in words. It is recorded of the Italian monk, Fra Giovanni—named in life "Angelico," known after death, as "Beato"—that he prayed with his brush; his every picture was a prayer to God. And never since he first learned to lisp the hallowed words at his mother's knee, never more fervently "in spirit and in truth," has the noble gentleman who gives to Charity the ground upon which we stand, repeated that heaven-born prayer, than is he now repeating—nay! than he repeats it all the while; for the heart of his charity never ceases to beat; no race or nationality, no line of latitude or longitude, can bound its action. I venture to say that, although he is devoting these precincts to his own immediate countrymen, who may be destitute sufferers upon a foreign soil, your gate will never be closed with his assent against the forlorn stranger who may be helpless, homeless, friendless, and destitute! And we, too, are about to embody in material form the same God-given prayer. Humble, indeed, the structure which we shall raise, if compared with the Parthenon at Athens, or the Coliseum at Rome; but the Coliseum and the Parthenon have fallen to ruins—the inimitable creations of Phidas, himself called "the divine," scattered over earth, beautiful bones of a dead civilization. And so too, the wood and the brick which we will use shall crumble into dust; the very iron yield to the destructive forces of material nature; but again and again and again shall they be renewed; the very earth upon which they will rest shall embody our prayer. The civilization vitalized by that spirit which fills with its adorable presence the heavens, the earth, the air, and the water; which, "in the beginning" "was with God;" "without which was made nothing that was made; "in which" we live and move and have our being;" and which, by the universal and irresistible power of moral attraction, is ever drawing the humblest of earth's sentient and intelligent creatures toward the One Omnipotent God, can never, never, never, die!
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Since writing the above, General Jackson has resigned and returned to the privacy of home life. The American Colony, as well as many prominent Mexicans, showed their appreciation by giving him the grandest ovation ever tendered an American, with the single exception of General Grant. As a further token of esteem, they presented him with a painting of the unrivaled scenery of the Valley of Mexico, executed by Velasco.
